To Kill for a Joke
by EyesWideOpenPenOut
Summary: Love the man, hate the monster, mourn the child. A retelling of "The Killing Joke." Joker Origins, set before "Batman Begins."


**Set before the events of "Batman Begins."**

"_Jeannieee. Jeannie girl."_

"_Yes Jack?"_

"_Wanna see a magic trick?"_

"_Always."_

"_That's my Jeannie."_

"_Give it your best shot, Mr. Napier."_

Jeannie had always felt just a little bit crooked inside.

Just a little bit off.

It wasn't obvious. She did not dish out her plate of crazy for all the world to see. That wasn't her style. Her style was quiet snark and timid smiles, and she did it quite well.

She grew up amongst a family that wrapped around her, tying her up like some weeds on a mission. Tight enough to feel encroaching, but kind enough that she couldn't quite begrudge them that extra hug. She loved her mother, revered her father, and let herself fall into the mix of older siblings who, without fail, always managed to impress. Jeannie managed to not fail spectacularly. That about summed up the quality of her schoolwork. Which is why, on one shining, lovely afternoon of summer, she was sitting in the middle of a classroom, writing furiously to finish her final lab in chemistry. There were two days left of the school year, and the windows were sweating dewdrops. She counted them, one by one, as they slipped along the humid glass.

"You're doing it wrong."

She glanced down at her paper, and the numbers swam in front of her. Math was not her thing. Rocks were her thing. And flowers. Oh, how she missed biology.

"I said, you're doing it wrong. Are you deaf? Or just useless?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, who asked you."

She clapped her hand across her mouth. Jeannie never said that, not to anyone. She whirled around to apologize, only to find herself staring at the bowed head of the mildly infamous Jack. He was reading a book, feet propped on a desk, curly blond hair barely dusting his shoulders, a jagged scar etched across his cheek.

"What did you say?"

Jeannie gulped. An apology was on the tip of her tongue…but he wasn't even looking at her. He had no idea what she had written, which meant he assumed she was wrong. Which was infuriating.

"I said, shut up. You can't even see my work. If you're going to be useless, there's no use insulting me. If you want me to apologize, then stand the hell up, get over here and help me with this problem. Unless you can't capture the brain cells to correct it."

_Where the hell was this coming from? Do I have an inner rage deposit that can only be activated by prickish blonds?_

Now he was looking at her. She felt a smidge of pride. He rarely acknowledged anyone.

Although, all things considered, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. His face was impassive but threatening. But those eyes…gods, they were lovely. Like melted chocolate.

Burning chocolate. He looked pissed. He unfurled himself, placed down his book and stalked over, only stopping when he was just close enough to scare her. Just close enough to see her. She was suddenly very aware of the scattering of pimples on her chin. Damn periods.

He raised his hand, almost a threat, not quite. She closed her eyes and heard him chuckle, followed by the scratching of a pen.

"You're new, aren't you?"

"Yes…" Jeannie said doubtfully. "You're Jack."

"You know my name?" He looked mildly pleased.

"I make a point of noticing the assholes in a class. That way, I can best prepare my quips."

He snorted. "Not that I've heard too much out of you, eh? You don't talk."

"Neither do you." Jeannie retorted.

"Shame, really. Who knows what sort of good I could do? Now, take a look at this problem."

Jeannie peered down at the paper. In red ink, words and numbers danced across the page. Arrows led to exponents, exponents led to explanations. It was chaos, it was fabulous, and it answered the question. Somehow.

"Wow." Jeannie breathed. "Umm. Thank you."

Jack began to walk away, when Jeannie grasped onto his shoulder.

"Wait, Jack. I mean…thank you for writing this. But I don't want an answer. The answer is useless. I just want you to show me how to get there."

A crinkle appeared in Jack's forehead. Apparently, this was an unheard of request. But Jeannie wouldn't cheat, not even on the stupid lab. She pulled out a sheet of clean paper and patted the chair beside her. She picked up her pencil and began to retrace the worksheet. A silence stretched between them. Jack hadn't moved an inch. He just kept staring. Eventually, it got to her, and she patted the chair more firmly.

"Common, Jack. Sit with me, commiserate, and share the wisdom of the ages. I'm sure logarithms are ten times as exciting as that comic you're reading. By the way, I have a book suggestion for ya." She leaned in close. "How do you feel about finding your way to Jesus?"

He looked at her, unnerved. She looked at him crossly, and then turned back to her paper.

"Not that I'd know anything about the Bible, of course." She rambled. "If I'm going to read books, I prefer the kind with dragons and princesses, with heroes prevailing over evil."

"So, fiction."

Jeannie frowned. "Someone's an optimist. She handed Jack a fresh pen, and squared her shoulders. "Alright Jack, show your stuff. Try to explain this stupid problem."

"I aim to please."

**Don't own, don't sue, thank you.**


End file.
